


The trials of Saints and Sinners

by Mistykins06



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Molly Hooper is no mouse, Protective Big Brother Mycroft, Protective Sherlock
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-14
Updated: 2015-11-05
Packaged: 2018-04-14 16:49:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4572156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mistykins06/pseuds/Mistykins06
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mycroft Holmes needs to be sure of all his brothers associates, and the relationship he seems to have with the young Pathologist at St. Barts is becoming particularly troubling. Time to do something about that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The Trails of Saints and Sinners

She was green, fresh almost to the extreme. Not yet set in her ways and he of course understood how pliable she could be to someone as enthralling as he was. Easily bent to suit his needs. How simple it be to persuade her to brake the rules with a well phrased suggestion, or perfectly timed smile.

Frowning, he watched her at the cafe counter order a simple coffee with nonfat milk and a single pump of caramel. Watched as the distracted barista screwed it up on both the milk and the use of the wrong flavour of syrup. Studied her, as she grimaced as she silently excepted it anyways even though she knew it was wrong with a gentle smile and a 'thank you'. Because it wouldn't be the thing to do to complain or assert herself.

As she passed he spoke. "Miss Hooper, do have a seat." He spoke in an easy, yet commanding tone.

Predictably the young woman turned, sloshing some of her coffee over her hand as she spun round on her heel to figure who had called her.

And just as predictably, she bit her lip and creased her brow as she considered him.

"I'm sorry, how do you know my name?" The young woman, Molly asked alarm beginning to go into paranoia.

"Sit and I shall explain." The well dressed man intoned, looking off to the side, more from boredom then of the paranoia she would expect if this was a kidnapping.

She sat, not particularly understanding why she had done so. Staring at the man across from her she took in his clothes, his meticulous care given to his appearance and his habits. It was her training, and a new habit that she had been practicing. Details mattered after all. They told you want a person wouldn't, or in her profession...couldn't. Her observations led her to believe that the man who had stopped her was important. Someone she'd do well not to cross. The man finally spoke; She was correct after all.

"Miss Hooper, it has come to my attention that you have allowed a man without permission from hospital administration free access to equipment, records and... Body parts through your position as a specialist registrar in the morgue at St Bart's. Do you deny this?"

Molly Hooper blanched. All color draining from her. Whomever this man was, what ever official title he held, it was enough she was sure to ruin her. Shatter her reputation. What good would fighting it do? She allowed her head to drop. Not denying the claim.

"I need to know what information you have about this man, what actions you have taken for him and the extent of your relationship with him. Personal and professional, Miss Hooper. "

She looked up and her cheeks heated with color. "Why do you need to know about him? Is he in some sort of trouble?" She asked, worry crossing each of her features.

"If I were you Miss Hooper, I'd be worried about my own affairs at the moment."

"But is he in trouble?" She demanded.

"Not...presently." The official allowed, watching as his guest relaxed; all be it slightly. "But we have reason to believe that he is never too far away from it."

She nodded once. Appeased a bit more.

"Now will you please tell me how you came to know and aid Sherlock Holmes?"

"Oh. He...well we... I suppose I..."

"Do hurry Ms Hooper. I have not got all day for you to make up a story so let's just hear the truth shall we."

"Right. I first met him 6 months ago during my final rotation at St Bart's. He came in during a routine autopsy along with a man who carried Id as a detective Inspector. LeGrant or something another. I can't recall honestly. The man, came over and deduced, as he called it that the man had been moved from the river front and into the park based on some fine grains of sand he'd spotted on the victims fingers. He helped solve the case in a matter of moments. It was fascinating. I asked him to show me how he had come to that conclusion and he gave me some general tips to be able to deduce what you can learn from a person based on their grooming habits.

We've come to an arrangement where he is to give me more training in exchange for my assistance and access to the lab. But before you think I am lack of the rules you should know that's he is an enrolled doctorate student. Therefore, he does have full right and access to the equipment and donated cadavers that we possess. " She finished strong, with her back straighter.

"A student you say? Under whose tutelage is he currently under? What program is he in? Which days does he attend lectures and whom does he work with?"

Valid, reasonable questions. Ones that Molly had no answer for. "I... don't exactly keep tabs on where he is or is not."

"Who does he work with?"

"No one. He's definitely a loner. I've seen him banter some with Mike, my co-worker Mike Stamford, but there's nothing extraordinary about their conversations. He seems to prefer... Me." The young woman flushed a bit at the implication.

"Meaning you let him smile and charm you into getting whatever he wants. "The man gave a macabre impression of a smile. "And just how far does his... Preference toward you extend Ms. Hooper? Are you two in an intimate relationship as well? Just how many liberties do you allow-" he was cut off by Molly's hand slapping the worlds out of his mouth. She glowed nearly a fluorescent red with embarrassment and indignation.

"That's ... Oh. God. I shouldn't have slapped you. " She paled. The man pulled a pristine white handkerchief from his inside breast pocket, dabbing at the small drop of blood from his newly split lip. "I'm sorry, I..."

"It seems I have touched a nerve. Forgive me Miss. Hooper." He said after placing the cloth down. They sat still glowering at one another till the man spoke once more. "I am going to need you to keep me informed of the mans movements."

"Why the hell would I do that?" Molly snapped.

"He is a potentially dangerous man. I need to keep him as reigned in as possible."

"You think I could reign him in?" Was her skeptical reply.

"I think you could keep me aware of his current interests. His...obsessions along with his general well being."

"And why would if want to do that?"

"I am prepared to make your way in the world easier Ms. Hooper."

"You mean you'll pay me to spy." She spat.

"If you require financial support I'd gladly supply it."

"I'm not going to be anyone's spy. Goodbye." She stood to leave and once more he gripped her wrist and sat her down.

"I can ensure that you remain above reproach from whatever your involvement is with Mr. Holmes."

"You want me to trap him?" She turned her hand out of his grip. "No."

"We will not interfere, unless it become necessary to do so. What I need to have someone he is close to to keep me in the know on his activities and his general condition. I think you maybe one of his closer acquaintances and I should like very much for you too keep me current."

The small woman considered him with the tilt of her head. "You love him."

The man rolled his eyes. "I will admit that I... Have an attachment to him. He does somehow manage to endear himself for all of his numerous faults."

"Love." Molly insisted.

"Ms. Hooper caring is disadvantage and love-"

"Is a chemical defect. Am I right, Mr. Holmes?" A wry smile danced across her lips.

The man considered the woman closer. She was clever, he'd give her that. "Ah. I see he's mentioned me."

"Are we quite finished now?"

A semi-deflated Mycroft Holmes nodded without making eye contact. Standing, with her coffee cup in hand Molly walked away, when she got to the door of the café she rounded back. "I will take your offer for the protection on my career and name though, to be clear. Only God himself knows what I'd do if that brother of yours asked me too."

"Consider it done. I'll be in touch. Here's my card for when you feel you need to contact me. Please do not hesitate to do so." Standing himself he handed her his card. A simple black and white affair that held only name and number along with an email.

With a half a smile and nod. Molly walked away and out the door. seconds after Sherlock Holmes himself took her place. "Well?"

"She passed." Mycroft answered.

"I never doubted she would."

"Yes, clearly. That's why you followed her today."

"I followed her for your safety. As your lip proves that she has a degree of spunk in her. Would have to, of course, to deal with corpses."

"That's not all she has." Mycroft smugly teased.

"Oh?"

"Molly Hooper has a crush on you, brother dear."

"It will pass. Give it a month or so and she'll see reason and move on." Sherlock dismissed the notion, with adverted eyes and a wave of his hand. Mycroft, doubted that, but felt no desire to press the issue. "You are getting predictable with these little interviews though Mycroft." Sherlock said, leaning back slouched in a more relaxed, casual manner.

"Oh?"

"Your tactic of choice lacks your usual panache. You stick out in a coffee shop like this like a preening French Poodle who's got himself mixed among the daily catch at the pond. Clearly you don't belong here."

"That's the plot line of a child's movie isn't it? Reliving your youth Sherlock?" He snapped.

"Case" Waved Sherlock. "But, you will still help Molly out financially won't you?"

"I'll have a fund established for her. Just as we have for all of your other favorite irregulars. You are making yourself quiet harem, Sherlock. Although I think this one dresses just like one of your homeless network."

"Fashion is not Molly Hooper's strength, but her skill in the lap and morgue are unparalleled." Sherlock noted. "And that covers a multitude of sins."

"Like the fact that underneath the ill fitting, uncoordinated clothing there is a beautiful woman?"

"Mycroft..."

"Woman are a distraction, Sherlock. One that will destroy you if you let them. Take care with her is all I'm saying. Molly Hooper could be very dangerous to you." Mycroft stood and headed out the door leaving his brother sitting at the table.

Sherlock remained where he sat, a serious look on his face. He would be wise to heed his brothers words. Molly Hooper could be quite a danger if he let her be.


	2. Chapter 2

Trials of saints 2

 

The message said simply come to the café. That was all and that was more than enough to make Molly Hooper livid. She bust into the café and slamming her bag down on the table where Mycroft Holmes sat stoically. "Make it quick."

"Do sit, Molly. Let's not attract... unwanted attention towards ourselves," Mycroft chirped. 

Molly's glare showed just which words she'd like to answer that comment with. They weren't kind or at all polite to one another, never had been or needed to socialize with one another. Therefore, Mycroft had never had the 'pleasure' of meeting an angry Molly Hooper before, but seeing her thus, well, under the circumstances he was willing to admit her anger was fully justifiable. 

"Would you like tea, coffee?" Mycroft asked. 

"No,” She snapped. 

"You'll indulge me then I hope?" He said with the wave of a hand. From behind the counter, a barista hopped to work and brought a cuppa over. Mycroft never looked at him, never thanked him and continued to study Molly. 

"I want to apologize Miss Hooper," Mycroft finally spoke. 

"What for?" Molly questioned through her thinly veiled irritation. 

"For the lapse in security that allowed you to get involved with 'Jim'."

"Can we not talk about that?" Molly groused. "Isn't it enough that your brother thinks he was merely showing interest in me to get to him?"

"I'm afraid we can't." Mycroft lifted a Manila envelope from his lap then set it on the table before her. "I am afraid to say, Molly, that he was not wrong."

"What do you mean?" She asked hesitantly.

Motioning towards the envelope, he spoke, "open it please, Ms Hopper." He watched as she simply looked at it before he moved the envelope towards her,  
Noting the brief moment of trepidation as she opened the flap to slide out the glossy images inside. "There is no 'Jim' in the IT department. Never was one. There is however a James Moriarty. A fellow going around calling himself the consulting criminal. I'm sure he looks familiar to you, but rather than an Internet technologies professional, he deals with a wide, and sadly spectacular variety of crimes. He's been linked to nearly two dozen large scale crimes, and it seems he has finally decided to put a face to his name." 

Mycroft watched Molly's eyes clench shut at the sight of her recent paramour dressed not in his jeans and tees, but a far more powerful suit. He knew this was difficult to understand for someone as simple as her. After all, what business did a plain looking pathologist have in a world of men who played games with theirs and other’s lives? 

"My brother was correct, Ms Hooper. You were merely being used as a means to an end." He watched the woman's large eyes begin to fill with tears of anger and pain. "And that is why I need to apologize to you. I have failed to you."

"Oh yeah? What could you have done?" Molly looked to the side. "Besides, why would you have?"

Sighing, Mycroft spoke. "I promised you certain protection when we first met. It was my meaning to take care of you in whatever facets of your life that my brother’s presence interfered with. Naturally, the care was to cover you professionally, of course, but not that those interferences bled into your more personal life then I was prepared to avail myself as needed."

"What do you mean take care of me personally? Is there sort of hit out on me?"

"No. From the beginning my goal has been to insure you meet with as few disruptions to your life as possible thanks to my brother. Sherlock does tend to make things challenging for those around him after all."

Huffing, Molly glared at him. "What is it you've both done that I'm not aware of?"

"My team has had you monitored."

It took a moment, but the inevitable outburst came. "You've been following me?!" Molly shouted. 

"Not following. Merely monitoring. Electronically. Just keeping tabs and such. Nothing physical. Of course, now you will require further steps."

"But that’s not-"

"Fair?" He interrupted. "By now I'm sure you have found, Dr. Hooper, that life rarely is."

"But... Surely this was a one-time thing. Just some silly game. We only had dinner, watched telly and the like. Mostly chatted ..."

"Yes, well it was enough to gain him access to my brother wasn't it?" 

Molly narrowed her eyes at Mycroft. "He's not that difficult to find."

"Please don't try that tone with me, it does not flatter you. My point is that you had a dangerous criminal cozied up on your sofa and you were in danger, all because of your association with my brother." 

"Is that what he said when he was arrested? That he intended to hurt me to get your brother’s attention? Because unless that's the reason you feel I am in danger and there is a specific threat made toward myself, I don't see what-"

"We don't have him."

"What do you mean you don't have him?"

"We are having trouble apprehending him," Mycroft admitted. "Not all criminals are idiots, Molly. James Moriarty is going to be difficult to catch. He must be lured and tempted."

"Not unlike Consulting Detectives?" Molly queried, worry etched all over her face. 

"It does seem the two are...remarkably similar, and Moriarty did his research it seems. That's how he got to you, to see how big of a weakness you were for him.

"Not that you were alone in that quest. He gained access to Baker Street’s third unit through Mrs. Hudson. Thankfully though, for you, John Watson was considered Sherlock's closest alliance."

"John? What happened?" She panicked, "Is he and Sherlock alright?"

"They are...reasonably safe." 

"What the hell does that mean?" She exclaimed. 

"Well, it means that while John Watson is no longer wearing a semtex vest or having nearly a dozen snipers targets aimed on him that Moriarty left my brother and himself with the promise of more 'fun' to come."

"So, it's not over," murmured Molly. 

"No, thus the need for more drastic measures of security." He stated, lingering his gaze on her. "Unless..."

"Oh my God, Mycroft Holmes! Will you quit being such an over dramatic little shit?" She snapped. 

"Unless you leave."

"You want me to leave..." Molly began. 

"London," Mycroft spoke with conviction. 

"Sherlock." Molly stated. It was the truth. Mycroft could not possibly care less about her. Not that she was ready for her to call his bluff. 

"And just what is keeping you here in London? You don't have to deal with this infringement on your personal life! In fact, you could just walk away right now. There is no family to stay close to, few friends with whom you rarely see socially. So why not take this opportunity to begin again? No one could blame you after being used so cruelly as a pawn to get to my brother. Being that close to danger would make anyone with common sense go running to the hills. You buck at the idea of being under watch, so why not take the path that makes so much sense?" 

"How dare you! How.... Ugh... dare you! Just what gives you the right to decide where I belong? Whom I see!?" 

"I don't have those rights, only you do." He paused, drinking his tea before going on. "My association with my brother is based on just that. He is my family. John Watson uses Sherlock as an excuse to lead a dangerous life. Mrs. Hudson feels indebted to him for his past protection and indulges him like a child she wished she'd had. Lestrade, even he uses his skills for professional gain. But you Molly... What do you get out of your association with Sherlock? What do you gain by being involved with him? Or he with you?" She stared coldly at him. "Has your relationship become more of an intimate nature? Are you sleeping together, even casually perhaps?"

Mycroft reached into his bread case and pulled out two surveillance photos of Molly entering and exiting Sherlock’s Baker Street flat timestamped several hours apart. He raised a brow to her in question. Molly gave her continual flat stare. He slipped two more out. This time the images showed Sherlock slipping into her own flat. The hours of that visit spanning nearly a full day. His eyes clearly held his thoughts of what such visits must have entailed. Yet, Molly noticed he looked... Almost hopeful at the possibility. 

"I thought not. In the first you are holding a cooler, clearly making a delivery of some of those oh so illegal body parts. Could that have been when the head appeared in his refrigerator?" 

He paused when no answer came to him. "And prior to his extended visit to your flat he'd been in a rather tough scuffle with a small little gang. Then I recall that John's security detail said that he had a date. Sherlock, I concluded, must have been asked to stay away from Baker Street and so he found rest at your home."

"If you know, why do you even ask, Mycroft?"

"Because I'm still trying to see, Molly, what benefits you receive from this alliance with my brother. He's detrimental to your career. Sherlock would be an utter failure of a boyfriend even if he weren't blind enough to see that that's what you want. So what is it that draws you? What keeps you by his side? I could easily enough find you a new position anywhere in the world. And forgive my bluntness, but you have no family, few friends and no need to be in London. Why stay?"

Molly considered what he said. It was true. What was keeping her locked away in her lab waiting on a man who could care less about her and her happiness? A man who was never going to feel for her what she felt for him. She could start over, anywhere in the world and... 

And never see Sherlock Holmes again. The man who'd thought she was asking for his coffee order after she'd worked for weeks for the courage it took to ask him out. Sherlock, who only 'noticed' her when he needed a favor, who'd flirt and mislead and play with her to make her actually give him a whole human head. Willingly! The man who thought to tell her the man she was dating was gay rather than a wanted criminal. The man that drove her insane and misused her. 

Sherlock ... who was the man who’s mind challenged hers. The one who made her heart skip and her breathe cease. Sherlock who would curl up with Toby and sleep for fifteen hours on her couch so John could do whatever he wanted with his girlfriend, Sarah. The man who never belittled her work or called her strange for her odd clothes and career. 

Leave, and never see him again. The thought alone hurt. Even if he never cared for her she couldn't imagine a life where Sherlock didn't sweep in and out, solving crimes and giving her winsome grins that made her warm for hours. It didn't matter of he didn't care for her in return. She didn't want to live a life that he wasn't a part of. She wasn't going to run away, no matter what sacrifice she had to make. 

"I have reason enough to stay. Those aren't the only important things in someone's life," Molly finally said. 

"If that is your choice," Mycroft sighed, "in order to give you the level of protection you will require, I will have to essentially hire you as an Asset to the government. It will require to you be available at a moment’s notice should any official autopsies need to be performed for my office or any other various tasks."

"Will that be often?"

"I shouldn't think it will add any additional duties to you. It will merely be on an as needed basis."

“Well that should be fine, all-alright."

"It will require you to go through some special training as well. Governmental procedure, tactical self-defense, benefits packages and the like."

"Oh, tactical self-defense. Thought you'd just slip that one in on me, eh?" 

"You won't be able to avoid it," He threatened, "this is the choice you are making. It's not too late to change your mind."

"You know I'd never willingly leave him," Molly declared moving to stand. "I'll do whatever is needed, Mycroft, you know that. If anyone understands what it is to love Sherlock, it's you and I. Take care, Mycroft."

Molly bent and kissed the overly stuffy man on the cheek before walking out. 

"How fortunate for him," Mycroft whispered, "how unfortunate for you, Molly Hooper."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: Hey you! Thanks for reading. No really thank you. And those follows, fovorites andd reviews, thank you. I know this is an a-typical sherlolly fic, but the interactions of those around Sherlock kinda fascinate me. Also, TheNewJefferson you are my angel and an amazing Beta. You take the digital chicken scratch I send you and you polish it into something legible.

**Author's Note:**

> Come find me on Tumblr for more drabbles and Sherlolly fun.


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